This is going to be a long run on sentence I am sure:
I lost my father last month and it has been the hardest thing I have ever had to deal with. I have lost family members before in my life, my grandparents and two brothers, but this is unbearable. I was younger for the other deaths and this is my first death as an adult and I don't know if that has anything to do with it.
The events surrounding his death are what makes this the most difficult for me, I think. I live about an hour away from my parents so I drive over every few months to see them. At the time of his passing my Dad was actually working out of state and staying at an extended stay hotel. My Mom called me the day that he passed and said she had tried to call him but he was clearly still half asleep because he would answer the phone and hang up and she could hear his CPAP machine in the background. She then tried to call him a little later and it just went to his voicemail and she figured he had gotten up and realized he was late and went to work. She didn't think much of it, and honestly neither did I because I didn't frequently talk to my Dad on the phone. So, I just figured he did that to my mom on normal occasions from the way she made it sound. The next day, Valentines Day, my husband and I just found out we were preapproved for our mortgage so we were both very excited to be buying a house. I called my Mom to tell her and in the conversation she mentioned that she was starting to worry because she still hadn't heard from my Dad. At this point, I became a little concerned, and mentioned her to try and call where he was working or the hotel he was staying at. She said yeah I think I have his work number somewhere around here, and we got off the phone. I honestly really at this point wasn't too concerned but it was in the back of my head. At some point after I got off work I fell asleep and was napping and my Mom calls me. I don't answer it the first time she tries to call me because I am still groggy and haven't quite realized what is going on. She then texts me "911". At that moment I know. I know it is my Dad, and I know he is dead. My heart starts racing and I try and call her and get her voice mail 3 times. And just keep hanging up and calling again. She finally answers and is clearly sobbing and I am even more sure. And then she says it. I find myself constantly thinking about this and replaying my voice during this conversation. I was by myself, my husband was at work and it took me at least 10 minutes to figure out how to call his work. Then I get put on hold because they can't find him. My brother (who lives across the street from me) knocks at my door and I see him and we both lose it. And I know he knows. And it is so hard. My brother and Dad were really close and had a good relationship and I am really close with my brother so that breaks me down even more. My husband finally calls me and my brother tells him and he comes home and I lose it again when I see him. My brother's girl friend who I love, is with us and is such a help. We drive the hour to my parents house and I start crying again as soon as I see my childhood home, where I last saw my Dad on New Years.
Over the next few days we find out more, and they are pretty sure it was a heart-attack not long after my Mom called him. Because he had taken off his CPAP, put on his glasses, and fell on the floor. The guilt of thinking there was something we could have done is overwhelming. That if I would have just thought about it when my Mom was telling me about it, I might have thought something was wrong and had her call the police or something. I don't know.
Also, the last conversation I had with my father we said we were going to keep in better touch. This was mid January. And that was the last time I ever talked to him. If I would have known I would have said so many more things. I would have called him more.
I found myself wanting to be where my Dad was just to feel his presence. I was searching for that. I wanted to be the first one to see him at the viewing, and I felt nothing. I went 2 hours before the viewing and just waited for everyone else because I wanted to know he was still with me in some way. I could tell he wasn't there but it did make it real for me. We debated cremating him before they flew him back into our state but I knew I needed to see him, or I would never believe it was the right person, or I don't know. I noticed my Dad had big ears which I somehow missed all these years.
We went to the state he was staying in to pick up his things and I wanted to go in the room he died in because I feel the overwhelming desire to feel his presence and to know that he is still with me somehow. I felt nothing again. The room was all torn up and the mattress was up against the wall, so I assume they were replacing everything in the room. They basically had everything out of there, but I did open up the cabinets to make sure and saw brown rice in the trash can. And I keep thinking about that brown rice. He tried to do things that were healthy for him, even though he was overweight and had diabetes and heart problems. He was always taking vitamins and eating things that were supposed to be good for you. That just tears me up thinking about it. His room number was 130. And the whole 13 thing now creeps me out.
I loved my Dad so much, but our relationship was weird. I never really felt comfortable around him, and I don't think he ever really felt comfortable around me. I always though, we would end up close again when I got older. I would have kids, and he would love being a grandpa. I am so heartbroken that he never got the opportunity to be a grandfather. I just got married in November, so I am so thankful he was there to walk me down the isle, but there is still so much left. My kids will never know there grandfather. They will never hear his stories. I never even got to tell him my husband and I were buying a house.
My husband and I were just talking about how good everything was going for us, not two weeks before we found out. And on Valentines Day, when I had found out about the house I remember thinking that this may be the best Valentines Day I have ever had. If I would have only known what I would find out a few hours later.
I am finding it hard to function. I rarely cried before this happened. My husband had maybe seen me cry 6 times in the 6 years we dated before we got married. And I have cried everyday since I found out. I am even considering seeing a psychic or something to see if they can feel his presence. I know this may sound weird but I have an overwhelming desire to know I will see him again someday. But I don't have really any firm beliefs. I would consider myself agnostic. Or open to the options but unsure. It's just knowing that someone spent 63 years on this earth impacting people, and making memories with people, can just suddenly be gone. It clearly isn't fair. I just have so many memories and it just hurts unbelievably bad. I could have never imagined this kind of pain. I am lost.
Thank you for taking the time to read all or some of my story.